


Ib falls and gets back up again

by knitwrit



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:20:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24517570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knitwrit/pseuds/knitwrit
Summary: Kylo Ren is reincarnated on earth after the end of the trilogy as a 30 something man who looks suspiciously like Adam Driver.  Also, he's my boyfriend.Crack with an edge, as all good cracks have.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> #BlackLivesMatter

I wanted to snuggle with Ib tonight, (whose name does NOT stand for imaginary boyfriend, I don't know where some of you get your ideas, (it's short for Ibrahim, he started going by his middle name when he converted back to Judaism (although I guess it wasn't really converting, because his Grandma was Jewish but she stopped practicing when she got to the States because she wanted her kids to fit in, which, if you're reading with a critical lense like hopefully your English teacher taught you, means: trauma.) Anyway Ib had to learn a lot about the faith before he felt ready to call himself Jewish and start using his middle name but now it's sticking even with his parents. And so I call him Ib for short )) but I couldn't because he's out protesting with Black Lives Matter.

We talked over the phone instead. There's a lot of crazy stuff going on out there and I feel really conflicted about being here and safe when he's out there putting his body and his freedom on the line for the cause, but I'm trying my best to support him and the movement from home.

He hasn't graduated yet from his nursing program (and you wouldn't BELIEVE the flak he gets about being a male nurse) but he can still offer a lot of support as a volunteer medic. But ugh, I just about cried today when I saw the videos of how they're treating protestors. Fuck, I know we've been teetering on the edge of fascism for a while now but it really feels like today we crossed yet another one of those invisible lines in the sand when the President called for the use of the army against civilians practicing their rights (and it's NOT even legal to use the army against civilians, that's against the Posse Act, and that's just on top of everything else fucking wrong with this entire fucked up scenario).

Anyway, Ib didn't tell me not to worry because he's not into gaslighting like that and we both know there's something fucking worrisome going on here.

But he did tell me that every day we stand up for justice and for change is a day that the world we dream of having becomes closer.

And we talked about that poet we heard at World Pride in Toronto in 2012 and how she said survival is resistance and how in moments like these that means a lot. And fuck that was so fucking true because the world doesn't want people to be like us, queer and disabled for me and Jewish and disabled for him. The world's tried to beat that out of us so many times in so many ways but it's failed and we're still fucking here, still breathing, our bodies and lives proof that they can't steal the truth of ourselves from ourselves no matter how they try. So we gotta keep trying our best to be kind to ourselves and each other and keep caring for ourselves and each other because survival is resistance, that means we gotta live big and loud and also quiet sometimes too, make that space for ourselves to just be soft and hurt and human.

And I cried a bit after we hung up but I think maybe we can get through this and hold onto each other real tight maybe each of us can find a way to take that next step forward that means we're still here.


	2. Chapter 2

Some of you all are wondering about that huge meltdown that Ib had a couple weeks ago where he was writing on medium.com about trying to make up for the blood on his hands.   
Some of you were saying that Ib doesn't have blood on his hands, that he should be proud of his service, blah, blah, blah.   
But the thing is, Ib does have blood on his hands.   
Around the time I was marching with my friends waving a rainbow peace flag and protesting the Iraq war, Ib was signing conscription papers (his Mom and Dad FLIPPED when they found out. And his Uncle Mark straight up accused him of being a fascist murderer and closed the dojo that Ib had trained in since he was a kid and moved to another state and refused to talk to anyone about it. Like damn. Way to throw a fit, Uncle Mark).  
The point is, Ib was training for battle while I sat in classes critiquing them. He never really thought what he was doing was wrong. He bought the whole thing, hook, line and sinker. He was there to save Afghanistan from itself. (Or Iraq. Wherever. Whatever. He'd go where he was sent.) They needed boots on the ground to preserve the American way of life? He was gonna be those boots.   
He was in Iraq during the Mukuradeeb wedding party massacre. Oh thank God, he wasn't involved. But he was stationed close by. He tells me he would have no question that he would have believed that he was shooting on insurgents, scared and green in the field as he was back then. When he saw the photos of the broken children's toys years later, he cried.

**Author's Note:**

> Support the protestors through donating money to bail funds, call your representative and ask for an immediate end to soldiers on the streets. Follow Black activists on Twitter and take their advice before mine. I am not Black and expect this work will be imperfect because racism is systemic and unlearning it is a lifelong job. 
> 
> Now go follow @blklivesmatter and learn more. Am still searching for the name of that poet. She was real and her words have inspired ne for years now. Will post when I find.


End file.
